


Magnus the Magnet I mean Hammer

by FriendshipCastle



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alcohol, Gen, Past Character Death, T for swears and at least one sex joke and the drinking thing, also mild suicidal ideation, being drunk and kinda meh about it, mild injury/gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-21 08:03:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9538964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FriendshipCastle/pseuds/FriendshipCastle
Summary: He’s the magnet!!!! That holds the team together!!!! And in this particular fic he's whatbringsthem together so. Here's my take on how the trio meet and stick around each other before Phandalin.





	1. Chapter 1

Neverwinter was agreed to be a technomagical marvel and hub for art and industry (preferably both combined). Things could be beautiful as they performed their function. Curves were elegant. Glass and wood were ideal building materials. There were donation-based dance lessons in the park, and monks of all races taught their orders’ martial art forms to seniors in pajamas every Thursday afternoon. Druids considered the public gardens a labor of love, where citizens could always find a fresh and healthful snack. The little gilded trolleys toodling up and down the thoroughfares were thoroughly adorable. Clocks sang out tunes whenever certain spells were cast nearby, no matter what time it was. 

About five miles outside Neverwinter’s breathtaking city center, there was a bar that had nothing to do with art or industry or the wondrous utility of plants. It did have everything to do with tired people trying to get home after having spent most of their money on souvenirs for their grandkids. It was called Homeward and while it wasn’t as cute to look at as Neverwinter’s train station, it wouldn’t put you in debt just by buying a pint and a sandwich at the snack counter. Older couples huddled in the booths, chalkboard signs propped on their tables, advertising where they needed to go. Sometimes a few couples would cluster up, talk in hushed tones, and then head out together with a rented wagon and a hired return driver lounging in the back, prepared to drive the cart home once it has served its purpose. More often, a stranger would come over and offer their services to a group. 

This was the place to hire people who would get you from ‘there’ to ‘back again,’ or as near to home as your coin could take you. From burly bodyguards to magic-users to knowledgeable survivalists with experience across specific terrains, there was someone for every traveller. Sometimes more than one someone, depending on a party’s size and paranoia.

Today, a man with ragged sideburns eclipsing his beard was sitting at the bar with a cup of water and a plate that wasn’t quite big enough to support all of his sandwich. His backpack was loose, empty where it should have contained supplies for adventuring, and he stared into the middle-distance as he chewed his food. His eyes dragged across a poster advertising for a photoshoot casting call that wanted unshaved halfling hippie chicks. He blinked as the words registered and his unibrow twisted up in curiosity. Was he into that?

“Hey, Magnus,” the half-orc bartender said.

He swallowed his bite of sandwich. “Hmwha? Yeah?”

“Group at table twenty-four’s looking for someone to fill out a party. They’re druids, if that’s a dealbreaker. They’ve got a cleric of Pan for a trip to the Underdark. You interested?”

“Yeah, okay,” Magnus said. “I’ll check them out. Thanks, Esther.”

She was already walking away to fill up the glasses at table… Fuck, Magnus was not good at memorizing numbers. He’d been back to Homeward five times so far and he still got confused about the layout. The table number had been twenty-something, which meant it was on the second floor, and it had been a bunch of druids going to the Underdark, so they were probably dark elves or dwarves. Was that racist?

Magnus found himself already walking up the stairs by the time he checked back in. That was happening fairly often, just losing little pieces of time. It didn’t matter too much, but he didn’t like being out of it when he could be attacked at any time by agents of Kaelin. Constant vigilance and all that.

The second floor was for smokers. There was a two-foot gap between the roof and the walls here and it was hypothetically how smoke escaped, but the amount of vaping paraphernalia popping up in Neverwinter lately meant that the top floor looked like it was on fire all the time. Esther had told Magnu how neighbors had the fire-fighting wizards called on them four times in the past month. He waved his way through the smoke until he found a table for the Underdark. He didn’t really have the money to be picky about jobs, and he liked meeting new people no matter what, so he walked up without scouting them out and said, “Hail and well met, I’m Magnus Burnsides, I do bodyguarding. Esther said you needed someone to help get you all to the Underdark?”

The three drow and four dwarves looked him up and down. All but one of them were in pale robes and two had magical staves jammed into the seats beside them. 

“I think I got this one covered, kiddo,” said the dwarf on the end of the bench seat. His robes were travel-stained and there was some awkward bunching that suggested he had armor on underneath his outfit. He had his wiry grey beard braided into three thin hanks with a colorful bead on the end of each, and when he turned away deliberately Magnus saw that he had a puka-shell necklace on.

“I’m not encroaching on cleric-ing,” Magus said. “I just thought you’d like some help with—“

“I told you, I got it covered,” the dwarf snapped. “Get outta here.”

“Well, hold up,” said one of the drow. She squinted at Magnus. “How long have you been doing this?”

“A little while. A couple years.”

“Hm. And you’re, what, six foot, six foot two?”

“Uh, five foot eleven. Why do you want to know how tall I am?”

“Are you fuckin’ serious?” the dwarf growled. “It comes down to sizeism? He ain’t tall for a human!”

“I’m not saying we kick you to the curb,” the drow said. “I’m just saying we should double our chances of getting back safely. We already have quite a few, ah, smaller party members, so why not get someone to protect the larger portion of the group?”

“He’s a human, not an elf!” the dwarf protested.

The drow shrugged. “I like our odds with two bodyguards.”

“Sure, okay,” Magnus said. “My rate’s a gold piece a day and you guys pay expenses. What’s yours, uh… What was your name?”

“Merle,” the dwarf grumbled. “Mine’s a gold and a silver per day, plus expenses. Whaddaya say to that?”

“Done,” the drow said. Her companions, dwarves and drow alike, all murmured agreement. She stuck a hand out. “Craig Skullcrusher has the formal agreement, if you would like to peruse. I am Penelope.” 

“Nice to meet you, Penelope,” Magnus said, and shook her hand.

Behind him, Merle snorted. “Kiss-ass."

 

*

 

Magnus fiddled with the tape on his knuckles as he watched the battered cart trundle into the caves that led into the Underdark. There were some scorch marks on the wheels and several arrow shafts protruded from the sides, so the party of clerics had given up on getting their deposit back and just kept the cart. They were here safely, though, and Magnus turned to Merle and said, “Okay, so before we start back could you fix my arm up? It hurts a whole lot and Penelope can’t heal for shit.”

“Not enough faith in Pan,” Merle said in a matter-of-fact tone. “But also, I have a long way to go on my own and I don’t have the spell slots to burn, so. Sorry?” He waved and started moving back the way they had come.

“Dude, I’ll go with you!” Magnus protested. “Two is better than one. Just fix me up real quick!”

“I’d rather not have a big tough guy who knows how much money I have following me back to Neverwinter,” Merle said. “Besides, I don’t know that I’ll be heading back to Neverwinter anyway. I kinda like to wander, you know? Go where the winds take me.”

“I’m totally down for that,” Magnus said, limping after Merle. “I love travelling, it’s absolutely my favorite, please fix my arm.”

“Yeah, no,” Merle said.

“Please?”

“No.”

Magnus considered for a moment as Merle started walking off a little faster. “So you can’t help me?”

“Nuh-uh, I won’t help you. There’s a difference.”

“Really? I don’t think there is. Either way you proved you can’t heal me better than Penelope can.”

“Of course I can do better than that damn weak-faithed drow!” Merle yelled, whipping around and striding back to Magnus. “Gimmie that arm and we’ll see what Pan’s grace can do.”

 

*

 

They weren’t exactly close after two weeks of travelling to and from the Underdark’s northernmost caverns, but they could stand each other. Merle had some very good filthy jokes in his repertoire and Magnus was always happy to try and meet people where they were; he was a people-pleaser at heart. Maybe he overshared a little with the TMI, but Merle could usually tell when Magnus was about to tell a weird story and he’d shut that line of conversation down, which Magnus appreciated. He wasn’t used to keeping things bottled up but Merle seemed to be an expert at it.

They parted ways on the outskirts of Neverwinter, but Merle kept popping up in the same places since they were in the same line of business. It wasn’t a big deal. They didn’t do many more jobs together, but a few people needed a cleric and Magnus would recommend Merle, and then one day Merle tracked down the Fantasy Motel 6 where Magnus had crashed at overnight in Rockport and insisted Magnus join him on a major merchant caravan gig. They were hiring more fighters because three of their mercenaries had decided to elope together in a very unexpected love-triangle-gone-great situation. Magnus pressed a hand to his heart at the sweetness of the world and Merle said, “Oh gawd, put a shirt on and let’s go before I regret helping your sorry ass.”

“It’s nice!” Magnus protested, digging for a tunic without blood on it—he wanted to make a good impression. “That’s so, so sweet!”

“It’s stupidity,” Merle said. His voice was flat. He was out of his cleric’s gear for now, and it was extra unnerving to see a dwarf in a sun-faded shirt with pineapples on it glare at the floor. Magnus didn’t push it. He strapped his adventuring backpack on, stole the nearest clean towel on principal, and followed Merle to the caravan waystation on the east side of town.

The dwarven woman who served as caravan leader took one look at Magnus’ shoulders and friendly grin with two missing molars and said, “You’re hired. Your stuff goes in the pack cart. Look for the disgustingly green wagon and ask for Taako.”

“You got it,” Magnus said. “I look forward to working with you!”

“What a dork,” Merle muttered as he stumped off to finish up his own travel preparations.

The caravan leader, Delia, gave Magnus a weird look with what little of her face was visible between her beard and her brows. “Okay. I just hope you don’t end up in a threeway marriage without giving your two-week’s notice.”

“Not possible,” Magnus said cheerfully. “I will never love again!”

Delia’s bushy eyebrows shot up and buried themselves under the brim of her wooly hat. “I’m not gonna touch that. Go find Taako and tell him what’s up. Here’s your copy of the contract; we added a ‘no spontaneous marriage’ clause but I guess you won’t have to worry about that. We may renew you at Longsaddle but don't hold out hope and don't bitch about it if we don't do it. Have a nice day.”

“Thank you!”

The wagons were all weather-stained and practical, withbare wood and rough joins that Magnus itched to improve even though it made him miss the Chisel to his Hammer. The one exception was the green wagon Delia had told him to find, which was an absolute eyesore. It stood out, gaudy and unashamed, and how did someone get eye-searing green paint? It all but glistened in the sun, like a fresh coat had been applied only yesterday.

“Uhhhh is there a Taako?” Magnus called out. He always felt dumb when he didn’t know who his coworkers were. He just had to stand around yelling names. 

This name conjured a high elf with sleepy eyes and a holey, overlarge sweater. He’d clearly decided to take advantage of his race’s increased ear real estate; his right ear only had one massive hoop earring weighing the tip down, but the other ear looked like he just crammed a fistful of cheap jewelry onto it and hoped for the best. The elf said, “That’s me, guy. Hail and all that. What’s up?”

“I’m Magnus Burnsides, and I just got hired to guard the caravan. Delia told me to come here to drop off my stuff?”

“I am the lord of stuff, junk, and shit. It’s on my ChainLinkedIn profile and everything, it’s why they hired me for this. Hand it over.” Taako held out a hand and wiggled his fingers expectantly. 

Magnus slowly shrugged off his backpack, which could easily have contained several Taakos if Taakos were flexible.

Taako took his hand back. “Yeah, you can chuck that back there yourself, I don’t need a herniated disk this early in the morning.”

“No worries, I got it,” Magnus grinned. “Hey, how dangerous is this route?”

“You didn’t ask about that when you interviewed?”

“A friend got me the job.”

Taako cocked his head to the side. “What kind of friends do you have, if they’re going to send you to a deadly job?”

“Well, okay, he probably wouldn’t call us friends. He’s here too but he didn’t say anything about it. Have you been with this caravan before?”

"Are you trying to find out if I come here often?” Taako smirked. “Cuz, uh, _no_.”

Magnus sighed. “Just wanted to know if I should arm myself up, but I guess I’ll err on caution and all that.” He unhooked his shield and bow from the outside of his backpack and started strapping on the sharp lump of metal serving as his short sword. 

“It’s only my second month with this insane clown posse,” Taako said after a moment of watching Magnus stick his tongue out of his mouth as he tried to buckle everything into place. “I’ve seen some shit, but I’ve seen much worse shit with other caravans, so. Can’t really judge, my guy. It was a reasonable amount of shit for a caravan heading through a bunch of forests and mountain passes. No deserts, that terrain can suck my dick.”

“Cool, cool, cool. I’ll be seeing you around then, I guess.” Magnus gave an awkward wave as he started backing away.

Taako’s eyes were heavy-lidded and half-open, but Magnus realized suddenly that he wasn’t sleepy. His gaze was sharp and he kept looking off, using his peripherals to scan the people passing by, before focusing back on Magnus. “Yeah, man. See ya.”

Magnus wasn’t sure how to ask, “Are you on the run too?” without it coming off as desperate or possibly threatening, so he didn’t push it.

 

*

 

Bandits tried attacking on the fifth day out from Rockport. Magnus and the other hired fighters fend them off and while Delia did tackle a guy with surprise nipple rings, which earned her the worst eyebrow scar story award, it wasn’t that big of a deal. Merle didn’t even wake up from his spot in the back of the clerics’ wagon. The caravan stopped in a town for the night all the same, just in case there were camps of raiders around. At the inn (dinner was NOT comped and Magnus actually preferred jerky to real meals, so it was a lose-lose all around) the merchants talked in hushed tones and the hired fighters got extremely drunk. Magnus got marginally drunk, because everyone else seemed to be having such a good time with it. Around his fifth beer, though, he started sniffling the way he’d worried he would. The world was a big, empty place without a home to go back to. He wandered outside to have a nice, big cry in the stables. 

On his way there, as he passed the violently green supplies wagon, a really big frying pan fell onto his head.

“Fuck! Shit! Fuck! Ow!”

“Jeezy creezy, what the hell are you crying about?” Taako said, hopping down from the wagon. “You fighters take ten points of damage when you take a shit, a wok can’t— Oh, fuck, you’re actually crying.”

Magnus passed the kitchenware back and hiccuped wetly. “Nice pan.”

“Yeah, thanks, it was a gift. Or, like, a prize? Hm, maybe it was more of a promotional endorsement deal. Whatever it was, I was gonna see if I could trade it for a substantial amount of shitty tavern wine but you, darling, have totally ruined my drinking mood.” Taako rested the pan on his shoulder and squinted at Magnus. “What’s eating you?”

Magnus gave a heavy sigh.

Taako jerked back, looking as though Magnus had projectile vomited at his feet. “Woah, okay, I know that sound and I suddenly do not care about your love life woes. I am willing to go splitsies, seventy-thirty, on whatever rotgut I can get for this wok but that’s all.”

“No, thanks,” Magnus said. “I’ll just feel even worse.”

“My dude,” said Taako, in the kindest tone of voice Magnus had ever heard him use, “it’s free liquor.”

Magnus paused. “Okay, yeah, I can make a bad choice tonight.”

“For sure. With the way your compatriots are carrying on in there, I don’t think we’ll be heading out tomorrow. Can’t get this convoy going if all the guards are hungover as hell.” Taako jammed a loose strand of hair behind his ear, peering towards the boisterous sounds of the inn. “Plus, you’ll keep me from killing myself by drinking everything.”

“Low tolerance?” Magnus said.

“Oh, not really,” Taako said, and marched into the inn with his pan held high.

It was only a few minutes before he emerged with a torso-sized jug made out of heavy clay that he was struggling to hold on to. Magnus had slid down the side of the wagon and was staring at his boots out in front of him, toes pointed to the sky. The bottle landing on his legs made him yelp.

“Shhhh!” Taako hissed. 

“Sorry you had to give up your nice pan,” Magnus said around a sniffle.

Taako shrugged. “Shitty memories and water under the bridge.”

“Who’s talking about Pan?” growled Merle from around the side of the barn. The smell of fresh piss wafted through the air along with his voice.

“What,” Taako said.

“Hey, Merle. Not talking about your god, just the cooking utensil,” Magnus said.

“Ah, gotcha.” Merle poked his head around the corner. “Damn! Hootch!”

“What the _fuck_ ,” Taako said. “The inn has bathrooms. Like, inside? Where real people pee? And who says ‘hootch’? How old are you, a hundred and fifty?”

“A hundred and eight, thank you very much,” Merle said.

“You only have about three decades on me, my man,” Taako said, settling himself to sit on the tongue of the cart. “That’s no excuse for calling this hootch.”

Magnus winced. Taako looked like he was barely out of his twenties and Merle looked like an ancient hippie who had put on a cleric’s robe only to go gardening immediately. The minimal age gap looked really weird on both of them.

Taako was wrangling the stopper out of the comically large jug. “Fuck, did they glue this in here? I may have to burn a spell slot on this bullshit.”

“Spell slot?” Merle asked.

Taako shrugged. “I’m kind of the greatest wizard ever. Self-taught, you know.”

“Really?” Magnus said. “Can you do a trick?”

“Bubbeleh, tricks are what brothel workers do for money. I kick ass. It’s different.”

Merle laughed for a long time. It was a long enough time that Taako managed to open the jug and start chugging. 

He stopped drinking when Merle stopped laughing and wheezed for a moment. “Mmm, that’ll do the trick. Magnus, for you?”

“Yeah, thanks.” The fumes coming off Taako were enough to warn Magnus of how potent this was going to be; after one mouthful, he felt it all the way up to his eyeballs.

“Pass it along, kiddo,” Merle said, wiggling his fingers.

Magnus took a few breaths in through is mouth to try and soothe the alcohol burn and squinted at Taako, a question in his eyes.

Taako gave Merle a long, cool stare. “No way.” He grabbed the bottle back from Magnus. “I traded for this fair and square.”

“What’s Magnus giving you for it, then?” Merle asked.

“He owes me a life debt now,” Taako said, and took another swig. “I’ll collect later.”

“Merle could owe you,” Magnus said. “Hey, wait, you told me to—“

“All right, all right,” Taako interrupted quickly.

Magnus ignored the interruption. “I don’t owe you! You told me to have some or else you’d get so drunk you’d die!”

“I can help you with that little problem, too,” Merle said. “C’mon, kid, let me have some.”

“Not a kid,” Taako pointed out. “Bad move to call me one if you want something.”

“Fine, _Taako_. Let me have some!”

Taako’s mouth twisted up in thought. He took a drink while he was considering. After a long moment of watching him gulp it down, Magnus gently pulled the jug out of his grasp.

“Okay, pass it on to him,” Taako said around a burp.

“Yes!” Merle crowed. He took one sip and promptly said, “Pan-dammit, that’s paint thinner!” 

Taako rolled his eyes. “It gets the job done, doesn’t cost anything, and means I don’t have to join the indoor party.”

“Are we the exclusive party?” Magnus asked, watching his sibilants on the word ‘exclusive.’ Enunciation was getting difficult.

“We are _not_ a party,” Taako said. “Three guys sitting on the ground under a cart drinking bathtub booze do not make a party. Merle, if you aren’t drinking, pass it back.”

“To me,” Magnus said quickly. He sloshed as much of the liquor down his shirt as he dared when he tipped it up for a swallow. Taako didn’t look particularly drunk yet but at this point he’d said enough worrying things that it was time to eliminate the problem.

“You’re spilling it!” Taako whined. 

“Man, this exclusive party sucks,” Merle grumbled. “I’m goin’ to bed.”

“Did you get a room at the inn?” Magnus said. “Wanna go splitsies?”

“Splitsies is my word,” Taako muttered. “You can’t use it, I slapped a fuckin’ copyright spell on it.”

“Nah,” Merle said, ignoring Taako. “I was gonna sleep in the clerics’ wagon. No reason to go wasting money on a room when we got a perfectly good wagon right here.”

“Oh,” Magnus said. “Yeah, okay.”

“G’night, geezer,” Taako said, waving absently as he tried to take the horrible wine-like drink from Magnus by force. Considering their respective bulks, it was a losing battle. “Who was that again? Why was he here? Hey, how ticklish are you?”

“Please don’t,” Magnus said. “This is a bad idea.”

Taako jabbed his long, mean fingers into Magnus’ side rolls. 

Magnus squeaked once before clamping his lips down hard on the automatic giggles welling up. He swatted Taako’s hands away and asked, “How can you even drink this?”

Taako grinned. It was absolutely wicked, all teeth and sharp eyebrows and the hint of a wink as he said, “Spell misfire, my dude, like a little one. All drinkables are key lime gogurt to me.”

“What?”

“Yep.” Taako took Magnus’ shock as an opportunity to grab back the alcohol. “All right, you’re cut off.”

“So are you!” Magnus protested. “Don’t get alcohol poisoning or something!”

This time, Taako’s smile had no teeth to it. “Uh-huh.”

“Promise!”

“Sure.” Taako wiped the mouth of the bottle with the too-short sleeve of his shirt. “You got it. Super promise.”

“Everything you say sounds fake,” Magnus said.

“I’ve heard that one before. Don’t worry about it, I’m hella sincere.” He stared at the bottle. 

“…Taako?”

Taako blinked and shook his head, sending his earrings swinging and jangling. “Fuck, I’m drunk. Should not have chugged that.”

“Save the rest?” Magnus said. “For tomorrow or something? I could hold on to it. Hey, did you get a room at this place? Sleeping on the ground is messing up my back, I need like eight pillows to feel completely comfortable. Um.”

Taako had stood up and kept his hand on the supply wagon as he shuffled around the outside. The jug of alcohol hung loosely from his fingertips by the fat handle. He didn’t look back. 

“Taako?” Magnus struggled to his feet. “Hey, are you gonna be okay? Do you want to—?”

As Magnus moved closer, Taako put a hand up. His face was angled down and away, and he snorted out a laugh that was disturbingly fake. “Yeah, it’s cool. I’m peachy. Here, hold still for a sec—“ He used Magnus’ shoulder as a railing to help lift himself up onto the top of the wagon with a certain amount of grace, stepping on one of the locked wheels and on a particularly thick arrow shaft that was still sticking out of the wagon from when the bandits had attacked earlier today. His head peeped over the top of the cart for a moment. He winked, said, “Taako’s good up here. Sleep tight!” and ducked out of sight.

Magnus hung around for a little bit, but loitering wasn’t bringing Taako back for a heart-to-heart or a hug or anything. Magnus was all the way back in the inn, holed up in the 8-bunk-beds-to-a-room dorm that the caravan had purchased for the night before he realized he hadn’t had his cry. He didn’t feel too bad anymore, surprisingly, so he didn’t indulge. He just took a deep breath, thought, _G’night, Jules_ , and went to sleep. 

 

*

 

The rest of the caravan’s journey was quiet and smooth, and Magnus managed to strike up decent banter with a couple of guards who hadn’t internalized toxic masculinity. He didn’t hang around the supply wagon or the cleric wagon; he stuck with the people who’d have his back in whatever next fight the caravan faced. Once the merchants hit Longsaddle and dismissed those with short contracts, though, Magnus saw Merle heading out and told Delia that he wouldn’t sign on for the rest of the trek.

“You sure?” she asked. “You get along real well with people, and that’s hard to find in mercs.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Magnus said. “I’m not really a mercenary, I’m just like, a fighter guy.”

“Well, I’ll give you an okay reference, fighter guy. Wish you’d stick around. I haven’t got one complaint about you. That’s a great thing about humans, you’re mature for your age.” Delia rubbed a healed-over cut she’d gotten in the bandit fight and shot a dark glance towards the back of the wagon train. “Not like the elves we see around here.”

“Woah, hey now, no reason to get all racist,” Magnus said quickly.

Delia sighed. “Yeah, I know it isn’t cool, but I swear it’s true what they say, that elves haven’t really figured it out till they’re like a hundred and twenty. I know they say dwarves are born eighty-five and stay that age forever, I know it’s shitty to generalize… But godsdamn, sometimes you find a guy who just fits every fucking stereotype.”

Magnus frowned. “Okay?”

“Not your problem,” Delia said. “I just know I’m gonna vet my people better next time. Well, couldn’t be helped on short notice; you get some good apples with bad when you just start grabbing.” She stuck out a hand that was only missing two and a half fingers. “Good working with ya, Magnus. You were a good one.”

He gave her his firmest handshake. “You too, Delia. Except this, uh, racist bit is kind of awkward. But work’s been good! See you around!” He jogged to catch up with Merle, who was pulling his grimy cleric’s robe over his head with a certain amount of swearing. “Hey, Merle, wait up!”

“Byeeeee, Maggie!” yelled a very distinct voice. 

Magnus jerked around to see the wide, languid waving of a shabby elf, perched high on his wagon. He waved back enthusiastically. Taako switched his wave to a gesture implying a blowjob, and Magnus made an even faster about-face to forget he had ever seen that. 

As they walked off into the town, Merle snorted with laughter. “Boy, did you ever make a friend.”

“Please say no one was looking.” Magnus could feel his blush through the roots of every hair on his head _and_ his face.

Magnus nudged him in the side of the thigh. “Good group, right? What’d I tell ya?” And he dissolved into gales of raunchy laughter again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because I posted the last chapter while half asleep, I cut off a whole end section while messing with formatting. If you missed that, maybe go back and check it out? There's hopefully a clearer segue into this chapter. But in spite of that oopsie I am so impressed with the response I got! You all are so nice in the comments, thank you!

The next time Magnus saw Taako, the elf had found himself a truly massive wizard’s hat, only somewhat tattered at the brim. He was picking his teeth using a thumbnail and reading a pamphlet-sized book with an intensity that Magnus could see from across Homeward’s crowded floor. 

“Taako!” Magnus called out.

Taako’s ears twitched. When he looked up, his free hand vanished under the table. Magnus waved really big and grinned to show he wasn’t dangerous as he pushed his way to the counter. Taako raised an eyebrow.

“How’s it going?” Magnus asked. “Can I sit here?”

Taako gave the empty stool to his left a long look. “I’m hoping someone’ll come along and buy me tater tots,” he said finally. His free hand reemerged from under the table to prop up his chin. “If you’re not that guy, then no.” 

“I’ll split tater tots with you,” Magnus said. “As payback for the shitty hootch.”

Taako rolled his eyes. “Oh gods, don’t remind me.”

Magnus laughed and told Esther to put a large basket of tots on his tab. Taako swept his own knees out of the way to make room for Magnus. The silence between the two of them was loud enough to drown out the many people calling out for bodyguards to help them make the trek home.

“So what have you been up to?” Magnus said.

“Uh-huh,” Taako said. He was staring at his book. He fiddled with the corner of the next page as Magnus watched but did not turn it.

“You okay?”

“Peachy, my dude. Waiting on those tots.”

Magnus squinted at him. It was hard to tell, but the intervening months between when he’d last seen Taako and the current Taako looked like they’d been… difficult. His sweater had holes in the elbows now, with a patch job that Magnus could have done way better, and the hemline on his pants looked like it had burned up an extra few inches. 

“Draw a picture, it’ll last longer,” Taako said, his voice flat.

“What? Oh, I’m bad at drawing.”

Taako’s lip twitched up in a smirk but then he bit down on whatever he had been about to say. He flipped a page.

Magnus rubbed a hand through his sideburns nervously. “Uh—“

A basket of fried potato lumps was dumped on the counter before Esther swept off to deal with someone else. Taako’s hand shot out and dragged the tater tots closer to him. The book was turned spine-up, pages-down, holding his place as he started flicking through the sauces-and-spices rack that Homeward was famous for.

“Hungry?” Magnus said after a moment.

Taako lifted one shoulder noncommittally and selected some sort of terribly hot-looking sauce. He upended it over the basket and gave the bottle a few hearty taps, thoroughly coating everything.

“Holy shit,” Magnus said. “How are you gonna eat that?”

“The question is how are _you_ gonna eat it?” Taako said.

“I’m not! I’d burn up! I’d spend like three hours on the toilet and that’s if my constitution roll is high enough!”

“Then I will eat these delicious tots happily and _by myself_.”

A bit of drunkenly acquired trivia popped up in the back of Magnus’ brain and and he gasped. “You asshole, this was a lime gogurt ploy!”

Taako’s smile was wide, bright, and stunningly beautiful, with an adorably off-kilter canine tooth and just the right number of dimples. “Honey, you know it.”

“But now the tots are gogurt-flavored for you!”

“Small price to pay for being left the fuck alone.” 

Magnus blinked. “Oh. You don’t wanna—“

“Nope.”

“—catch up? I haven’t seen you in—“

“Nope.”

“—months, I think four months? Five? When did we—“

“Nope.”

“—do the caravan gig? That went pretty—“

“Nope.”

Magnus sighed. “Taako, I have a job lead that needs a wizard.”

Taako put down the tot he’d been about to cram in his mouth. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m the maintenance guy for this man with a really old, rickety wagon and I’m also gonna be the muscle, but he wants someone who can do shit from a distance if I’m distracted and I told him you were the greatest self-taught wizard, so.”

Taako gave Magnus a slow blink. “So what’s the pay?”

“You’re interested?”

Taako lifted that one noncommittal shoulder.

“It’s a gold piece a day.”

Taako’s eyebrows shot up before he got them under control. He suddenly looked the most awake Magnus had ever seen him. “That’s your rate, or that’s what he says he’ll pay?”

“I mean, it’s what I always charge, but—“

“My dude, you need to get twice that. You’re doing two jobs. Twice the labor, twice the pay.”

Magnus frowned. “Oh. Well, I just do them at the same time so—“

“That’s not how you spin it, babe. You’re operating on full cylinders—or, I guess, two cylinders. Because you’re doing two jobs.”

“What’s cylindrical about fixing a thing if it breaks and protecting people?”

Taako jabbed a tot at Magnus. “Not the right takeaway here. Okay, look, you gotta ask for more.”

“Why?”

“So I can ask for more.”

Magnus threw up his hands. “How are the two related?”

“Magic-users can charge a lot, normally. Me being, ah, self-taught is kind of murder on wizardly rates, but if you’re getting paid more then I can ask for more because spells are totally better than punching or whatever. So,” Taako slammed his hands on the counter and stood up, “we are gonna go get you a better rate, and thus get me a better rate.”

“How much do you usually get paid?” Magnus asked, still unsure of how they’d reached this point.

Taako waved dismissively. “Every job is a special snowflake with it’s own special paycheck. Where is this dude trying to get away with hiring two first-rate boys for second-rate prices?”

“He’s upstairs… He’s got three kids, Taako, I don’t want to—“

“Are they part of what you’re guarding?”

“Well, yeah, but—“

“Oh, no no no no no, that has _got_ to cost more. Kids! They run around and break shit and get lost and you’re preventing their horrible, gruesome deaths _every second_.” Taako was beaming. It did not look like a good smile for other people to see, especially when he was explaining how fragile children were. 

Magnus winced. “Uh. O-okay?”

“Point me at this fartknocker and let’s see how sweet we get get this deal.” Taako held out the last, least-drenched tater tot.

“Um.” Magnus took the offering. “Follow me, then?”

 

*

 

From a distance, it looked like a lovely campfire bonding moment between a lazy, moody elf and three adorable adopted siblings. The illusion fell apart as Magnus listened to the actual words being sung. The two human boys were laughing hysterically at their half-orc little sister, who was proudly and innocently joining Taako in a call-and-response rendition of the late-night tavern classic, ’The Wizard’s Staff Has A Knob On The End.’ 

The children's dad, Eli Ribripper, waved a hand at the scene and stared at Magnus with all the menace a five-foot tall human could muster (he’d taken his husband’s last name since the last time Magnus had worked with him, and Magnus didn’t blame him for getting away from Tulipsson). “Care to explain?”

“She doesn’t understand it,” Magnus offered. “I mean, most of it. Probably just the surface-level stuff. It’s pretty obscure innuendo and she’s six.”

“Yes, but my sons get it! They’re laughing! It’s encouraging her! And she might sing it around other people!”

“True,” Magnus sighed. “Uh. Sorry, I don’t think Taako’s spent a lot of time around kids, he doesn’t really know what’s, uh. Appropriate. I’ll talk to him.”

“Great, and _stop him_! Right now! What do I pay you for if not to protect my children?” Mr. Ribripper crossed his arms and glared.

Magnus sidled up to the elf who was absolutely howling out the words to the next verse. “Uh, hey, Taako?”

“ _The staff of a wizard is polished with care./He_ — Hm, what?”

“No, what’s next?” Ritsu Ribripper asked, already giggling along with her brothers in anticipation. 

Taako smiled down at her. “Slow your roll, pumpkin, I gotta talk boring shit with Magnus here.”

Magnus winced. “Uh. Yeah.” He waved Taako away from camp (but not too far, since they’d been hired to guard everyone). 

“What is it, my dude?” Taako asked. 

“Uh. Have you ever worked with kids?”

“Nah. Wasn’t around them much. Like, ever.”

Magnus’ brow wrinkled. “Wait, what about when you were a kid?”

“Look, my man, you expect me to remember eighty years ago?”

“Oh, shit, right, you’re an elf. Well, okay, there’s some stuff that’s considered, uh, highly inappropriate to say around kids. Dirty jokes are definitely on that list. And so are swears.”

Taako stuck his hands into the inside pockets of his cloak and raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, and?”

“Mr. Ribripper kind of wants you to stop teaching his kids dirty songs. And also stop swearing. Or, like, cut down on it around them? Maybe say ‘shoot’ or ‘darn it’ or something?”

Taako laughed. “Like they don’t know swears already!”

“I mean… no? They might not? Ritsu definitely doesn’t.”

“They’re all adopted, right? Trust me, you learn the nasty stuff _early_.”

Magnus swallowed. There was a bad taste in the back of his throat that he recognized as an awkward conversation he was about to have. “Well, the Ribrippers adopted her when she was a baby so I think Ritsu in particular doesn’t know swears. I dunno about Miguel and Ben but it’s still not really professional to cuss it up around kids. Um. S-so were you—?”

Taako was glaring at him, like he knew exactly where this line of questioning was going. Magnus stopped.

“Listen,” Taako said, and his voice was surprisingly quiet for how pissed-off he looked. “I’ll cool it. But you gotta take over singing for me.”

“What?” Magnus blinked.

Taako grinned suddenly, the grim expression vanishing without a trace. “If I can’t do sing-a-long then you have to! Or else they’ll be _soooooo_ disappointed.”

“I— Do you not know any clean, child-appropriate songs?” Magnus asked.

“None at all!” Taako said cheerfully. “Head on back and start ‘em up again, I have to unload, if you get my drift. Shoo. It’s not a spectator activity.”

“Yep, nope, okay.” Magnus spun around and left him to it. He thumped down in Taako’s spot at the fire and gave the three confused, suspicious faces turned towards him a worried smile. “Hi, kids. Taako had to go, uh, do a thing, so I’m—“

“What’s he doing?” Miguel asked.

“Bathroom.”

“Number one or two?” Ritsu asked.

“That’s Taako’s business. But hey, we could keep singing! Does anyone know—?”

“Have you killed anyone?” Ben asked.

“Oh my god,” Magnus said. He looked around desperately for Mr. Ribripper. “Hey, kids, where’s your dad?”

“Bathroom,” Miguel said.

“Number one,” Ritsu added. “I wanna be a bard! Is Mister Taako a bard? Where’d he learn that song? It’s silly!”

“I bet you’ve never killed anyone,” Ben said, disappointed.

“I— Why would it be a bad thing if I’ve never killed someone?” Magnus asked.

“You’re s’posed to guard us,” Ritsu said. 

“I can do that without killing people!”

All three kids looked at each other knowingly. 

“That’s not what Papa says,” Ritsu said.

“Well, that’s his opinion,” Magnus said. “And hopefully we won’t have to find out if he’s right or if I’m right. Because killing is bad.”

“Not the worst, though, right?” Ben said. “Papa says there’s worse things than death. Daddy won’t let him tell us what they are, though.”

“Oh my god, seriously, where is your dad?”

Ben rolled his eyes. “I told you—“

“It doesn’t take that long to go number one,” Magnus said, and drew his sword. “Hey! Mr. Ribripper! Taako!”

It was very quiet.

“Yeah, okay, Ritsu? Can one of your brothers carry you real quick? Ben, get her? Follow me, guys.”

The kids were quiet, fast, and obedient in an emergency, which was a major relief. Magnus checked to make sure the cart hadn’t been compromised, then loaded the kids in the back and stood in front of the open end, shield at the ready. “So we’re just gonna hang out for a minute to see if anyone comes back from the bathroom, here, and then I thiiiiiink we—“

There was a ripping sound of something tearing through the air, and then a sound that took a moment to place; Magnus had heard noises like that from frozen ponds. 

Somewhere to his left, Taako murmured, “Fuck yeah,” with a certain amount of smugness.

“Taako?”

“Hm?”

“Where are you?”

“What? I’m right— Oh, duh.” Taako stepped into the light and twirled his wand between his fingers. The dramatic effect was marred somewhat by half of his shirt being tucked into the front of his pants. “No darkvision for humans, I forgot.”

“What did you do?” Magnus asked.

“Ray of Frost, baby. With ultimate stealth.” The wand spun out of Taako’s grip and he managed to make a quick enough dexterity save to nab it before it hit the ground. He straightened up with a sweeping motion, as if completing some noble bow. “Took some weirdo right out.”

“What weirdo?”

“A goblin, I think. Moved like one, anyway.”

“Do you know where Eli is?”

“Who?”

“The guy who hired us!”

“Oh, yeah, he’s fine. Tied to a tree and all, but he’s—“

“Where? What? Why didn’t you cut him down?”

Taako raised an eyebrow. “I did.”

“Where is he?”

“Pissing.”

“Really? Still?”

“Well, he didn’t get to go before he got, you know, tied to a tree. He got got before he could go, if you will.”

“Mr. Ribripper?” Magnus called.

Taako leapt forward, hands out in a urgent ’do not do that’ gesture. “What the fuck! No way a single goblin plans to attack a dad and his kiddos and their built-like-an-oak-shithouse of a bodyguard! Keep it down!”

“Gosh darn it, Magnus, did you even talk to him about the language thing?” Eli growled as he limped out of the trees. “I appreciate your help, Taako, but come on. They’re kids.” 

“Sir, we should probably move on,” Magnus said. “This area isn’t safe.”

“I would agree, but the horses won’t move at night,” Eli said. He peered into the cart, checking on his children.

“We can lead them, we just gotta get out of here,” Magnus said. “That was probably a scout.”

"They're pretty fuckin’ dead for a scout,” Taako said. “Snitches can’t snitch when they’re popsicles.”

Magnus raised his gaze to the heavens. If Merle had been here, he would have asked Pan for strength. “Yeah, but when the scout doesn’t come back? They’re gonna know something’s out here.”

Taako’s hat sank lower on his head as his ears drooped. “Oh. Fuck. I mean, dang. Aw, beans.”

Magnus started getting the horses into their harnesses, working by feel and the dying light of the fire. “Taako, take the lead with these big guys, would you?”

“What? Why?”

“Darkvision,” Magnus said. “You got it, I don’t.”

“Your poor, human eyes,” Taako said. With that same unexpected grace Magnus had noticed before, he hopped up onto the driver’s seat of the cart and crossed one leg over the other. “Nah, Taako’s good here.”

“Dude, you are literally the only one who can do this. We don’t have Merle or Bhrain with us—“

“Who?”

“You met Merle!” Magnus hissed. “He’s my dwarf cleric friend, and Bhrain’s Mr. Ribripper’s husband and he’s an orc.”

“You shoulda picked one of them to come, then.” Taako said. “I’m sticking back here. I’m the backup. The way, way, way backup. I’ll cover you but I ain’t going first. I know my limits; one major hit and the star of this show goes ffft.” He made a slicing motion across his own neck.

Magnus growled but finished hitching up the horses and grabbed the lead with one hand, holding his sword with the other. “Okay, so can you detect stuff then? Detect people?”

“Uh, yeah, it’s called perception. Or investigation? Whatever it is, I’ll keep an eye out,” Taako said. He tucked his wizard hat down under the seat and started pulling his hair back into a stubby ponytail. “Tell that half-orc kid to watch our butt, she’s got the vision for it.”

An arrow whuffed past Taako’s knees.

“Get started, my dude!” Taako said. He grabbed for reins Magnus had never bothered to give him, then gave up and started staring frantically in every direction he could. “Go go go go go go! Hyah! Son of a bitch, go already!”

“Oh my god I hate you,” Magnus said, but he clicked to the horses and got them started at a neat trot.

“Faster!” Taako yelled. 

Magnus chanced a look back but couldn’t see anything more than a vague smear of darker gloom where the wagon was. The light of their innocent little campfire was already behind them. “Taako, can you make a light?”

“Oh, sorry, did you ask if I can make us a target?” Taako said. “A big fucking glowing neon target? Why, yes I can. What would you like me to make into a fucking beacon?”

“They can see in the dark anyway!” Magnus snarled.

“Only for about sixty feet, my dude. And light carries a lot further than that.” There was another ripping sound through the air and Taako said, “Oh, ow. Dammit.”

“Taako, you okay?”

“…Eh, I’ve been better.” His voice was strained. “I’ve been worse too, though, so. _Comme ci comme ça_.”

“Shit,” Magnus said. “Light me up. My shield or whatever, I don’t care.”

“I’ve got to be touching it.” Taako snarled through his gritted teeth.

“Then throw something at me!”

“Fuck!” Taako spat, and then he said something sharp in Elvish before Magnus could switch his brain over to that language to translate it. A glow began to expand behind Magnus as he trotted along beside the horses, and then the glow was right there on his shoulder as a slightly bloody sock slapped against his armor and stuck to it.

“Augh!” Magnus yelled automatically. The horses shied. Magnus let go of their leads and dodged out of their way. An arrow skimmed past Magnus’ shoulder. Another skittered along his armored back. A third took a deep slice out of his arm. There was a pause for breath; the archers all unleashed at once, so they’d have to reload while running after the cart.

“Pinpoint them!” Magnus called to Taako, but the elf was already standing up on the seat, bracing himself against the terrified acceleration of the horses. The cart was starting to pass Magnus, and he readied himself to jump into the back of the cart even as he kept a curious eye on the wizardly magics he was going to get to see.

Taako’s cloak whipped behind him as he raised his hands to shoulder height. A dull, reddish glow took over his palms. He took a deep breath and yelled, “Eat a bag of dicks!” and then his hands flashed a searingly hot pink. Three bolts shot out, two heading to the left side of the road and one to the right. Taako immediately sat back down and waved at the cart’s reins, summoning them with another spell to rest in his hands. Then Magnus was next the cart and Taako was out of sight behind its bulk. 

Magnus focused on running close to the cart, and timed it to leap in the back. Eli and his children rushed to drag him the rest of the way in. The cart was bouncing around at a bruising pace, rattling with the horses and the road and the speed and the fear.

“Thanks!” Magnus said to the Ribripper clan. He bundled himself through the little hatch leading to the driver’s seat and slid in next to Taako. “You all right?”

In the light of the sock still stuck to his shoulder, Magnus could see that Taako was sweating, his lips a thin line. His right foot was bare and slick with blood; his boot was crammed in next to his hat under the driver’s seat. All he said was, “I only got one more spell slot, but I think I hit at least two of them with Magic Missile.” 

Magnus remembered his short bow, tucked away in one of the various storage compartments in this neat little cart. He was okay with it; not great, but okay. And that was in broad daylight, not the gloom of a forest at night. Magnus admitted to all of these facts.

“We could swap who’s driving,” Taako said. “Just to make sure we hit what we’re aiming for.”

“Yeah, okay.” Magnus took the reins. “Can you see them? Whoever’s left?”

“Mm.” Taako clamped a hand on Magnus’ shoulder as he struggled to stand up again. He put a lot of his weight on Magnus as he peered around. Finally, he thumped back down onto the seat with a wheeze. “No one in sight. Must’ve hit enough of them hard enough to get them to back off. We can probably slow the roll here.”

“Sounds good,” Magnus said. “It’s a lot of work for the horses. Hey, did you get hit?”

“Yeah,” Taako said. His voice was tight as he added, “But I can still kick ass, no problem.”

“Hell yeah you can. Okay, you keep looking out. I’ll calm these guys down in a minute and get down to steer. Do you know any healing?”

“Not my forte, my dude,” Taako sighed. “I’m pretty strictly a Transmutation guy. And, uh, don’t go spreading this around but you got to see me at my best there, spell-wise.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. In terms of battle magic, I mean.”

“It was pretty fucking cool,” Magnus said.

Taako stared at him. With his hair pulled back and his hat gone and a hand clamped around his knee—oh, shit, that’s where he was bleeding from—he looked even younger than he had before. He looked young and stunned and lost. And then he blinked and said, “Yeah, it was. I told you, best wizard around right here.”

“Take care of that,” Magnus said, pointing at his leg. “And if you cover up this gash I got real quick, I’ll handle the horses again. We should be at our destination by noon tomorrow, if you wanna tell the Ribrippers. We should at least get out of this forest before we stop again.”

“Gotcha,” Taako said. He took a well-stocked first aid kit from Mr. Ribripper and patched up Magnus quickly and quietly.

“Good job,” Magnus told him, slapping him on the back before swinging down from the driver’s seat to take care of the horses. He almost didn’t hear Taako say, “Fuck yeah,” to himself in a very pleased tone of voice. He probably wasn’t meant to hear it. He didn’t mention it.

 

*

 

“Merle!” Magnus called, waving frantically with the hand not holding on to his backpack.

The dwarf looked up from the recruitment poster he’d been inspecting and groaned. “Oh my god, how are you still alive?”

“Nice to see you too! Hey, remember Taako?”

Merle gave the elf a suspicious once-over. He stuck a finger in his nose and wiggled it as he said, “Vaguely. Bad taste in beer, right?”

“Shitty wine’s my poison, actually,” Taako purred.

Merle’s nose wrinkled and he withdrew his finger from his nostril. “Yeah, I remember.”

“He’s a wizard and he’s a badass,” Magnus said. “But we both can’t do healing, so I think we should try to do more jobs together, the three of us. And Taako’s really good at negotiating for more money so we could charge a rate for hiring all three of us and we could definitely get more than we make alone.”

Merle’s eyebrows were so low and crunched together, his eyes were no longer visible. “And you think this is a good idea?”

“Yeah, of course!”

“No, not you, the elf.”

Taako shrugged. “Well, I’ve done a lot of caravan work over the years and every new meet-and-greet is a fucking chore. If I never have to play another name game again, it’ll still be too soon. I can remember Magnus and I can remember Merle and that’s about all the brain cells I can spare.”

Merle let out a bark of laughter that made Magnus and Taako both twitch. “Shit, I can relate to that! Hm. I guess we can start poking around for bigger gigs. You’re good with money, Taako?”

“Damn good at getting it, my dude. Decent at holding on to it. And fucking amazing at spending it.”

“Oh ho. Oh ho ho ho,” Merle grinned. “I am _in_.” He held out a hand to the elf.

Taako stared down at the wide, grimy palm, and then slapped it with his own burn-scarred hand. “We can come up with some sick handshake later, probably. I gotta go buy some new socks though, my last ones caught a case of the glow-spell. I’ll catch you homies at whatever bar is loudest, hm?”

Merle and Magnus watched Taako wander off, his battered wizard hat standing tall over the crowd.

“This’ll be interesting,” Merle said. “Who hires three bodyguards at once?”

Magnus considered. “Rich people?”

“Now that’s a nice way to look at it. All right, I have some shit to do. See you tonight, wherever that guy ends up.” Merle made a beeline for the farspeech transmission office.

Magnus ran a hand through his hair. He counted out the money he had gotten from Mr. and Mr. Ribripper (with a little bonus for the amount of ass kicking he and Taako had done). It was enough for a room at an inn, a bath, and dinner. There would even be some left over. If he poked around for a good deal, he could probably get a blacksmith to fix up his sword. 

He had a brief flash of memory, of a home and a steady job and love and no more need for weapons, he’d won that fight. 

Magnus took a very shaky, very deep breath in and walked off in a different direction than the other two boys he had just joined up with. He had a direction for the next couple hours; there was no use planning beyond that. Life was going to happen no matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are many versions of Sir Terry Pratchett’s immortal song, ‘The Wizards Staff Has A Knob On The End’ but I chose the one Wikipedia directed me to: http://www.chaosmatrix.org/library/humor/staff.html. I found funnier versions out there but this one’s nice and subtle enough to pass over a child’s head.
> 
> The one time I tried to join a DnD game, I was gonna be a half-orc. Just a fun fact there.
> 
> I really don’t think Taako talks very much, especially out of the three guys. He had to because this was a two-person situation so Merle couldn’t be there to run interference but goddamn, it was hard to make his dialogue happen.
> 
> The whole idea behind this was exploring how freelancers get new jobs and how adults get new friends. I am not great at either aspect but I have some experience in both.

**Author's Note:**

> Is it spelled Governer Kaylen? Caelin? How do I spell anything? Also I don’t play DND and I haven’t heard the special secret bonus episode yet (my life is hell right now and I keep forgetting to get on that good bonus content), it's all pure headcanon bliss right here. I DID try to look up a map of the terrain in 5th edition because I have very specific hangups about location and distance? Age and spelling and canon I can’t remember go right out the window I guess but dammit I’ll get those maps as right as I can.
> 
> Magnus ends dialogue with exclamation points like 80% of the time; I realized it halfway through the fic and it felt so right.


End file.
